


Don’t Freeze

by thebearking



Category: Black Panther (2018), Black Panther (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Other, POV T'Challa (Marvel), Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Sweet T'Challa (Marvel), T'Challa-centric (Marvel), Wakandan Reader (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 03:13:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15572439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/pseuds/thebearking
Summary: T’Challa always seems to freeze when you’re around.





	Don’t Freeze

**Author's Note:**

> requested on my tumblr [pickledmoon](http://pickledmoon.tumblr.com). i like writing soft sweet things for t'challa. here the reader is wakandan and gender-neutral. enjoy!

T’Challa sighed, closing his eyes as he reclined in his seat on the Royal Talon Fighter. He hummed to himself, a tune his mother had sung to him and Shuri when they were young. He twiddled his thumbs, tapped his foot on the floor. Fighting to focus on anything but the sounds of your snickering.

There’d been a litany of giggles and muffled snorts coming from your direction during the entire ride home. He thought he’d even seen Okoye’s shoulders twitching with laughter. He knew what this was about, and though he did not want to discuss it further, he was getting tired of your not-so-secret amusement.

You were lucky you were cute.

“Alright,” T’Challa said finally, sitting up straight and fixing you with the most nonchalant look he could muster. “What is it?”

You grinned cheekily. “What do you mean, my king?”

“What has you giggling like a child? Go on, tell me.”

Your smile softened, your eyes warm as you looked at him. “You froze,” you said matter-of-factly. “Okoye warned me that she should have come along to ensure you stay focused, and, well, when was the last time she was wrong?”

“Very funny.” T’Challa slouched in his seat, extending his arms on either side. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“You stood there frozen while I took out our mark. Cat got your tongue? Or I guess it got all of you…”

“Enough,” T’Challa muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was distracted.”

You clucked your tongue in faux disappointment. T’Challa had a feeling you were smirking at him, the coy smirk that made his cheeks warm and his heart speed up. “T’Challa, what distracted you so? I had to take out good ol’ Mr. Arms Dealer all by myself.”

He could tell by your tone that you knew exactly what had distracted him so, or at least had an idea of it. You were remarkably perceptive; months ago, when he’d spoken to Nakia and Shuri about his feelings for you, Shuri had bluntly replied that you already knew, so there was no point in him hiding it. Now the two of you seemed to be dancing around each other, T’Challa more so. He made an effort now and then to flirt, and you flirted back, but nothing had come out of it. Only further frustration.

Truthfully, T’Challa had turned to strategize with you, but he’d caught sight of you taking a man down with your legs alone, thighs flexing with a strength he’d had the pleasure of witnessing only in combat training. He rarely saw you in such nice attire, and the sight of you had taken his breath away: kicking ass in a silver tunic with pearls sewn in to the hem, forehead glowing with sweat, eyes fiery as you maneuvered with ease around your enemies.

Though he wasn’t going to tell you that.

He looked over at you, still watching him expectantly, eyes alight with mischief. “The moon.”

You arched a brow. “The moon?”

“It distracted me.” T’Challa scooted closer to you. “You see, I don’t know why but it was glowing especially bright tonight.” He hoped his earnest gaze was enough to show you what he meant.

And it did. Your eyes widened, your lips parted, and then you cleared your throat. “Perhaps you haven’t been paying attention, your majesty. The moon glows every night, just the same.”

“Is that so?” T’Challa let his hand skim yours, never letting his eyes leave yours. “Perhaps I should watch it after all.”

Okoye scoffed and muttered something under her breath.

You leaned back into your seat. “If you liked my tunic,” you quipped, “all you had to do was say so.” As you spoke, your hand moved to cover his.

T’Challa fought back a grin, turning his hand palm-up to lace his fingers with yours. “Will you wear it again?”

Though you weren’t looking at him, he could see you smiling. “T’Challa, to see you freeze like that again, I’ll wear whatever you want.”

He could live with that.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and let me know what you think!


End file.
